


Illya's Habit

by Morganaismyqueen



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Napollya - Freeform, Not Beta Read, bottom!Illya, dom!napoleon, ily prompt givers, look its the first time ive written in MONTHS and i am EXHAUSTED, sub!illya, top!napoleon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7111777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morganaismyqueen/pseuds/Morganaismyqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, Napoleon and Illya really like each other but neither one will admit it. Illya keeps going after men that vaguely resemble Napoleon and Napoleon is starting to wonder where those hickeys came from</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illya's Habit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sirius_bucky_solo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius_bucky_solo/gifts).



> look. i havent written since early january but i finally got some inspo and finished a couple prompts from tumblr and wanted it out of my system before i go on vacation for like two weeks. As always pls leave kudos/comments if you can thats part of the main reason i felt like writing again, seeing people like my other work was !!

prompt from literally MONTHS ago i am so sorry anon

"Napoleon doesn't realize Illya is into men/thinks Illya would be uptight about the hole idea, so when Illya brings home a man (someone random/nothing serious) he gets confused+jealous. cue angry confessions, maybe illya mistaking Napoleon being lost for homophobia, since it's always the other way around? Honestly anywhere you could see this go, as long as our boys are happy in the end!"

AND a prompt from my gorgeous and wonderful friend Lauren ( sirius_bucky_solo here on ao3 ) who started our friendship WITH THIS VERY PROMPT ilysm  
"No pressure or anything but you r great and napollya prompt pls Dom!napoleon sub!illya pls pls thanks babe xx"

* * *

Illya hadn't given into this urge for awhile, months upon months and while Illya thought women were fantastic. Honestly, he did. He loved their curves and those soft smiles and the lipstick and the sounds they made but he was itching for something a little bit more tonight and so he had very calmly and with a goal very much in mind, gone to a club that was known for such activities.

See, Illya knows he is attractive. He has the height, the stunning eyes and the foreign accent that always manages to draw in someone, no matter what. It's just that most men in these places saw him and almost always automatically thought that he would be the one on top. Which, don't get him wrong is a lovely way to spend the evening but not quite what he wanted from the nights activities, so he had resigned himself to having to convince someone if he could..whenever he got them back to his room or their apartment whichever they decided on in the end.

Illya had to spend a total of three hours there before he settled on a slightly shorter man with bright eyes, dark hair and a willingness to take him back to his own apartment instead of going to Illya's room which was far preferable since Napoleon was staying near his room and Illya would prefer not to have that conversation with his new male partner quite yet. He couldn't be sure how Napoleon would react and he didn't wish to risk a potential asset to his country because his enjoyment of all sexes caused a problem, so he said nothing and he did nothing in sight of Napoleon but tonight was a night off and Napoleon was nowhere to be found and Gaby had scampered off somewhere else and he could do whatever he pleased with his evenings thank you very much. He even sounded like he was trying to convince himself to continue with this evening, there was just something about the man he chose that was rubbing on him the wrong way..perhaps that was it. Perhaps not. What did it matter anyways?

They made it back to the mans apartment in record time as Illya has snapped at the cab driver to go faster. His general aura and accent must have startled the man into continuing at a higher speed as the two men touched as quietly as possible in the backseat. So by the time they finally got up to the mans fifth floor apartment, Illya was completely done with politeness and wished to get on with what this evening had been all about in the first place. He didn't go out looking for a quick handjob or a fondling in the backseat of a cab, he went out looking for someone to fuck him and that was what he was getting out of this evening.

Thankfully the other man didn't seem to be too interested in any non-strictly necessary foreplay and after a brief hurried (and half slurred on both ends) conversation, he said he didn't care who was doing what as long as they were doing something and this..Illya could work with.

* * *

Illya left sometime in the middle of the night, after a slurred conversation had turned into this man fumbling around in his pile of clothing on the floor for the container of vaseline he had thrown there carelessly at some recent point which had swiftly turned into one and then two fingers and then Illya telling him he could prepare himself far faster and the man becoming annoyed by Illya's repeated impatient comments and the man had done what Illya had wanted and added more movement and a third finger with far more force than was strictly warranted but more of what Illya wanted to feel if he was being honest with himself (and he so rarely was, especially with this) and the rest had been the feeling of the other man entering him. That lovely burning and stretching that always came with such activites, the bruises that were left on hipbones, the hickeys that were almost always inevitable that remained on the lower right side of his neck and collarbone and the tingling of his scalp as the man yanked his hair a bit too hard on a thrust that was meant to be punishing as Illya had commented that he'd had much better in Russia (not a lie, not really. Russian men tended to be rougher with their partners and able to take more than American men he had quickly discovered)

Afterwards, the man had tossed him what appeared to be a dirty shirt from the floor before told Illya he was welcome to stay the night but to lock the door on his way out in the morning.

  
Illya didn't stay the night, that was never what he wanted from these occasions. He wanted a warm bed with a warm body that could push a little too far for comfort but just right for the shock he wanted to feel to his system, even if only for a few hours every few months when he could manage to get away long enough. He always felt more relaxed when he was able to go out and find himself a nice man to shove him facedown into a surface and push in a little too fast and a little too hard. 

Illya was in a very relaxed and content mood which was completely ruined when he walked in, slightly disheveled and tired, only to find a very well dressed and awake Napoleon in his hotel room. Drinking what must have been his third or even fourth glass of whiskey if Illya was to take a guess.

Napoleon looked up at him curiously as he came in "Gaby called, Waverly needs us at HQ now. Well actually Waverly needed us there hours ago but I couldn't find you anywhere."

Illya's relaxed state was quickly vanishing under Napoleons administrations "Nothing important happened, otherwise they would have gone looking for me and not left you in my hotel room." Illya stated, moving to take off his hat and jacket as he would need to change before they left for HQ and he should probably shower and--Napoleon was staring at him, watching him shrug off his jacket with something akin to how an animal would watch prey and if anyone was prey here it would be Napoleon.

Illya stopped, his jacket halfway off, caught on his elbows and stared at Napoleon

  
"Yes, Cowboy? Did you need something else? I would like to change if we are to leave soon."

  
"By all means, Peril. Go ahead and change. I was simply trying to figure out what woman would have left that rather large hickey on your throat." Napoleon finished his glass at the end of that statement and shrugged

It was only then that Illya realized his shirt had been caught by the jacket sleeve just the tiniest bit and it had pulled down enough to reveal the lower portion of his neck (he hadn't worn his traditional turtle neck to the bar, why would he? He had worn a lower necked shirt and was just now regretting his decisions of the last six hours) naturally, Illya paused but after a brief hesitation. Continued as if Napoleon had said nothing unusual, Napoleon knew this was not from a woman. He would be able to tell from the size of the hickey itself. He would be disgusted and perhaps request a transfer as he had several partners do in the past. It was expected by now. So, he said nothing and continued onward. If Napoleon wished to discuss this he would and if not Illya did not care.

Napoleon left the room as Illya turned silently towards his bedroom to gather clothing for his shower.

The mission went about as smoothly as was expected, which is to say. Not at all smoothly, but they'd only been shot at three times and nobody had been injured so they were all three willing to call this a good mission and they'd been celebrating in Gaby's room (she hadn't been assigned to be Illya's fake anything this mission, instead he'd been paired with Napoleon as a foreign friend who he was showing America too but on a tight budget so they had to share a double, it hadn't been a problem so far but tonight everyone was going to be in their rooms and sleeping as they left tomorrow for HQ so it was possible that it would be a problem tonight) and they had been drinking for quite a bit, an hour or two if Illya had the time correct and Napoleon kept looking over at him as if he was trying to figure something out and while Gaby could definitely handle her drinks, she was also drinking a far bit faster than the two of them were and was curled up on the corner of her couch and appeared to be losing the battle of consciousness as her words were drifting further and further apart the longer she lay there. It was a clear sign they should head back to their own room and Illya very slowly did so. He did not want to be alone with Napoleon, when his old partner had found out about his habits he had attacked Illya when they were alone. Illya had almost killed the man before other agents had stopped them, he really didn't want Napoleon to turn out the same way.

* * *

Illya went to the shower almost as soon as they arrived in their room, partially to avoid Napoleon and partially because he was still covered in the debris from the exploded building they had to crawl around in to find the tape they'd been sent after earlier in the day. He figured Napoleon would be asleep when he returned but he wasn't. He was sitting on the small balcony they had and was staring down at the city beneath them and Illya silently started to dress himself when Napoleon turned and looked at him, standing there naked except for his towel loosely about his waist, holding pajamas in his hands. The bruises on his hips having not faded from the other night and the hickey also not being completely gone. Napoleon focused in on the bruises with an almost startling change in expression, his lips got thinner..his eyes looked a bit darker (pupils dilating? was it anger or attraction? it couldn't possibly be the second..no..) and he put the glass he had been holding down on the table near the balcony with more force than was needed and Illya started to tense.

Napoleon pointed at the very faded hickey on Illya's neck and asked "Who was that anyways? Simply curious, he really must've been good to leave all of those reminders. Must've been fun." He said it all in such a casual manner that Illya relaxed in confusion, relaxed just enough for Napoleon to move a bit too close, close enough that Illya could smell his aftershave and the whiskey he'd been drinking moments before. Even if by some miracle Napoleon didn't hate him for his habits he couldn't possibly tell Napoleon about that night, Mostly because the man had looked startlingly like him...as had the last two men before.

Napoleon smiled, obviously pleased at catching Illya off guard for once. "Relax, Peril. I was simply curious. I didn't take you for one of us."

Illya froze, Napoleon couldn't mean that..he didn't mean that he too, enjoyed the company of men in such an intimate way. But as Illya reviewed past interactions with suspects and situations he began to see them with a new light.

Napoleo's smile was beginning to drop, perhaps he thought he had guessed wrong and he was going to go back on what he had said? play it off? Illya didn't want him to do that so he reached forward and touched Napoleon on his quite honestly attractive forearm and by god how did the man even have an attractive forearm?

One touch and they both froze, it seemed they had both stopped breathing. Neither moved or said a word until Napoleon by some god granted mercy..moved forward, almost pressing Illya into the wall behind them and without taking his eyes off of Illya's, he kissed him.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, Napoleon went in for the kill. It was all force and Illya was literally being pushed into the wall by this point and Napoleons leg had somehow found its way in between his legs and his towel was coming loose and it really wasn't worrying him like it probably should. Neither was this obvious moving step forward with Napoleon. Until this point, Illya had been denying his obvious attraction to Napoleon but now that everything had been made clear and Napoleon was touching him. He relaxed completely and the moment he did so he heard the most inhuman sound come from Napoleon.

Napoleon pulled himself away for a moment and pushed himself away. Illya moving to follow with minor hesitation.

Napoleon shook his head and took a deep breath "Don't move until I come back. Do you understand me?" He said with such authority Illya stood stock still, already going to obey Napoleon without even considering it for a moment. That could be a problem. However, right now? It wasn't. Napoleon left and Illya waited.

* * *

Napoleon came back roughly ten minutes later and he took one look at Illya and bit his lip, obviously enjoying the view here. An obviously aroused Illya standing in a towel waiting for his next order was something that Napoleon couldn't have dreamed better.

He pulled out his small container of vaseline and approaching Illya asked "If you don't want to do this, just say something and I'll go right back to my bed and we can forget this ever happened."

Illya grabbed the vaseline from him and smiled "Let's go, Cowboy."

* * *

Illya found the comedown from these encounters to be the worst part, as he knew that he couldn't have this person twice or that he couldn't ask for overnight stays (not that he'd ever wanted them from these strangers, he had wanted them before from others though. he had never been allowed) and his partners never wanted to touch him in any non sexual way afterwards or before. They weren't cruel but they certainly weren't very kind and Illya had accepted that until he woke up in bed next to Napoleon and neither one of them had moved away from each other, they had actually moved closer during the night. Napoleon's naked form mostly covered by the hotel sheet on Illyas bed. The sunlight hitting him from the annoyingly open curtain just right, making him look even more untouchable and godlike in the glow. Illya began for the first time since the army to hope that this wasn't a one time thing. Illya shifted, trying not to move too much on the off chance it'd wake Napoleon and felt sore and saw the fingerprints on his hips and he smiled. He could get used to this.

Napoleon woke up to Illya watching him like he couldn't believe the sight, as if he himself wasn't the most beautiful thing Napoleon had woken up too in quite some time, and if Napoleon had anything to do with it this wouldn't be the last time they woke up like this.

 

 

 


End file.
